


never been kissed

by cadyjanis



Series: jaren [3]
Category: Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Coming Out, Conflict, Developing Relationship, Drama, F/F, First Kiss, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Multi, Pre-Canon, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadyjanis/pseuds/cadyjanis
Summary: it’s strange how just the other day janis was lamenting over ever being friends with a plastic. but now it makes sense—now it all makes sense, like the final puzzle piece has fit.if she was going to befriend any of them, of course it’d be karen.—karen smith worms her way into janis’s bruised heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a oneshot but i got carried away. oops. perhaps i love them a lot.
>
>> **ch1 trigger warnings:**   
>  d slur   
>  lesbophobia

Janis Sarkisian has never been kissed.

 

That isn’t surprising given her reputation amongst her peers at North Shore, not to mention how she often feels like the only non-straight girl there. She sticks out like a sore thumb, and would even if her wardrobe wasn’t all fishnets, combat boots, and oversized jackets.

 

She’s the infamous space dyke. Regina George’s weirdo ex-best friend. The freak who had to take _art therapy_ because she was so traumatized by what everyone still thinks is “just a joke.” The only person who obviously doesn’t is Damian, but he’s the only other gay kid she knows, so of course he isn’t amused.

 

Despite having him in her corner, Janis never feels more alone than she does when realizing she wishes she had another queer girl to talk to. Damian is great, but nobody understands the complicated inner workings of the lesbian mind like a lesbian.

 

Janis has never been kissed. Not by a girl, not by anyone. That didn’t used to bother her, heart too mangled to endure the very thought of being in a relationship, but lately it has eaten away at her, persistent like an itch she cannot reach. She almost feels embarrassed by her total lack of experience, like she’s somehow less of a lesbian because she hasn’t done anything. She’s sixteen, don’t people her age fuck like rabbits?

 

Ninety-nine percent of her school’s population is straight. The one percent left exist in the form of Damian and his theater friends, who are all very valid, but none of whom are girls.

 

So that leaves Janis with zero options, and feeling more isolated than before. And the thing is, people don’t seem to care that Damian is gay. Nobody is etching slurs onto his locker. Nobody gives him dirty looks when he passes in the hall. His sexuality is relatively ignored, warranting only the occasional eye roll from teachers.

 

Because guys can safely be out gay here, and no one bats an eyelash. But Janis Sarkisian is the lone dyke, and it’s all people have talked about since seventh grade. Derisively, with scorn, with blatant, upfront disgust. She likes girls, so she must be dirty. She must be a creep or have something wrong with her brain.

 

It’s one thing to be alone, and quite another to feel alone. Janis has never been kissed, might never be kissed, and at this point, in this place, she wouldn’t blame anyone for not wanting to.

 

* * *

 

“Janis, did you do your homework?”

 

Her mom’s voice cuts through the blissful roar of her rock music, which she begrudgingly turns down to yell an irritated “yeah!” in response.

 

“Did you clean your room like I asked you to?” comes next. “Two days ago?”

 

Janis rolls her eyes, pushing her deteriorating laptop off her now burning thighs. “No, but I’ll do it right now,” she shouts, aggressively snatching a hoodie off the floor.

 

It really doesn’t take long to toss her laundry into the bin, straighten her bedding, throw empty water bottles and soda cans into the trash, and open a window, but the task is always a billion times less doable when it’s a priority.

 

Every teenager can relate to suddenly refusing to do a simple task simply because it’s being asked of them, and Janis is still annoyed thirty minutes later.

 

On top of the gross reminder of chores, Janis had a bad day at school, so her patience is low. If her mom walks in and asks her to do something else, so help her God, Janis will probably not snap but come very close to it and her mom will raise her eyebrows at the sheer audacity and then Mr. Sarkisian will arrive home to the stony silence that hangs after they fight.

 

Luckily, the universe doesn’t hate Janis that much, at least not today. It was bad enough she unfortunately walked in on Gretchen Wieners sucking face with that pig Jason then got called her favorite slur as she ran away.

 

Janis could breathe and someone would find an excuse to pin it on her being a lesbian. Which is usually funny because of how ridiculous that is, but today it just stung.

 

An hour later, her sanity is tested when Mrs. Sarkisian knocks on the door. “Phone’s for you,” she announces through it, and Janis’s brow furrows.

 

Damian has her cell number. Who in God’s name could be calling her?

 

She climbs out of bed again, opening the door a tad aggressively. Her mother offers the home phone with a shrug. “Said she’s a friend from school,” she whispers helpfully, then leaves.

 

Janis doesn’t have friends from school.

 

She waits til she’s shut the door and seated at her desk to nervously put the phone to her ear. Vaguely feeling like she’s in a _Scream_ movie, she says, “Hello?”

 

“Janis?” a girl’s voice pipes up eagerly.

 

“Yeah, hi,” Janis mumbles, tugging at her sock. “Who’s this?”

 

“Karen,” the voice chirps, and Janis’s blood runs cold. “Karen Smith. Um, I know this is super out of the blue, but I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna hang out this weekend.”

 

Janis stares at her door, littered with posters pertaining to aliens and gay slogans. Her tongue is heavy in her mouth, and she’s brought back to reality by Karen gently saying her name. She inhales sharply, panic slowly rising in her chest.

 

“Um, I don’t know,” she replies, even though she does. You couldn’t pay her a million dollars to hang out with a Plastic. “Is this a joke?”

 

Karen is quiet, taken aback, then murmurs, “Why would it be a joke?”

 

Janis gets mad then, a hot ball of rage flaring where the panic just was. “Oh, I dunno, you’re a fucking Plastic and you’re calling to see if I wanna hang out with you. Did Regina put you up to this? Wait, nevermind, don’t answer that.” She stands now, trembling with rage, tears smarting her eyes. “I’m sure she’s right next to you trying not to laugh. Fuck you both.”

 

“Janis, wait, no—” Karen starts to say, alarmed and hurt, but Janis quickly ends the call. She slams the phone onto her dresser then locks herself in her bathroom, sinking to the floor with the force of how hard she’s shaking.

 

She presses her back to the wall, head between her knees, gasping around terrified sobs. She doesn’t get scared a lot—even when she is afraid she never shows it.

 

But something about being so close to getting tricked or hurt or pranked again makes this dam break, one she didn’t know existed until now. She doesn’t really blame Karen, she’s dumb and is probably easily coerced by Regina, but Janis can’t think of any valid reason why Karen of all people would suddenly want to be friends. The Plastics are tight-knit as ever, it’s not like she’s been kicked out and needs somebody.

 

Not like Janis was at twelve, when she was ostracized for something she had no control over, when those same girls viewed her as trash not worth their time.

 

It’s been four years but the wound is as gaping and messy as it was the day Regina caused it. So there’s no way in hell Janis was going to take a chance on Karen. It was much too random for it to have been sincere. Janis still would’ve said no even if Karen was, because Janis is not so desperate for friends she’d do that to herself.

 

Her makeup bleeds, leaving visible tracks on her face. She can hear the phone ringing again, a last-ditch attempt at reeling her in. But not even her desire to scream at them to fuck off can make her answer. Skyscraper legs now stretched out in front of her, Janis hiccups behind the muffling press of her hand, willing them to leave her alone before her mom finds her.

 

Because her parents think she’s over it. They want her to be, so she can go back to being the normal and vivacious girl she used to be.

 

But that won’t happen anytime soon.

 

Not if the Plastics keep finding new ways to torture her. They have, and they will, and this was a literal close call. Regina isn’t done with Janis, not by a long shot.

 

* * *

 

Janis never wants to go to school, but the next morning proves to be a challenge.

 

She’s nauseated walking into the building, weaving through the crowd to get to her locker. She holds her breath upon approaching it, expecting to see some crude word or artwork waiting for her, but there’s nothing. She’s still tense as she opens the door, but thankfully it’s clear as well. She gets her books as swiftly as possible then hurries to homeroom.

 

“Morning, Janis,” Ms. Norbury greets when she strides in. Janis and Damian are her favorites, and Janis only knows that because she doesn’t say hello to anyone else. The others are jerks and have pretended not to hear her, but Janis and Damian do.

 

“Hi,” Janis says, aware her tone is clipped but unable to correct it until after she’s spoken. “Uh, hi. How are you, Ms. Norbury?” she tries again.

 

“Oh, I’m fine,” Ms. Norbury replies, seeming touched she thought to ask. “You okay, kid?”

 

Janis knows she probably looks as queasy as she feels, so she lifts a shoulder evasively. Ms. Norbury waits for a response, face softening when Janis continues to stand there.

 

“You don’t have to tell me,” she says, lowering her voice. “But if something’s going on, you’ve got people here who will listen to you. ’Kay?”

 

Janis nods, anxiety fluttering like a weak little bird in her chest. “Yeah. Thanks, Ms. Norbury.” She musters a tiny smile of gratitude, because she genuinely appreciates it. As awkward as it always is receiving consolation or reassurance, Ms. Norbury does it in a way that makes her feel normal. If Janis were to talk to anyone, she’d probably pick her.

 

Janis is hunched over her sketchpad when Damian barrels in and flops down at this desk next to her. “Ask me what kind of day I’m having,” he huffs.

 

“No,” Janis deadpans, only semi giving a shit.

 

“Okay, so, first of all,” he says, twisting in his chair to face her and launching into a wild tale of his morning until now. He doesn’t care that she’s not paying attention, only needing a grunt or other sound of acknowledgement to keep going, and talks for a solid five minutes.

 

That’s so Damian. He only needs his audience to be half-absorbed.

 

Janis soon realizes he’s finished talking, and looks up to make sure he’s not gazing at her with big, dejected puppy eyes. He isn’t, merely muttering to himself as he checks his biology notes. Janis sighs, relieved, still feeling a tad guilty.

 

She doesn’t even know what she’s been drawing. She studies the paper now, unsure how she feels about the square, mildly grotesque caricature she drew of Regina.

 

The bell rings a moment later, and Janis shoves her sketchpad into her backpack, grinding her teeth apprehensively. She has no clue what the day holds or if Regina is even going to do shit. It’s awful either way, not knowing what to expect.

 

Everything is ordinary and uneventful up until the end of English a few hours later. Pulling out her sketchpad for art as she exits class, Janis is distracted, and a jock rams right into her. She loses her footing and lands on her hip, and there’s an obnoxious rumble of laughter.

 

The worst part isn’t even the fact she fell, but dropped her sketchpad. Pages came loose and are now skittering across the floor. Janis, completely ignoring the fact the kid has kept walking, scrambles to pick them up, suddenly hyper aware of her height and her outfit and her hair and her weird backpack and her now burning skin.

 

She grabs most of them, whirling around to catch one as it drifts past. When she stands, she is met with a peculiar sight: Karen Smith, bending down in her mini skirt and platform heels, to snatch the remaining pages off the dirty floor. Janis is frozen in place, watching her, clutching her rescued pages and pad to her chest.

 

Karen beams as she jogs over—as fast and balanced as she possibly can in those dumbass shoes—and hands Janis the rest of her artwork. “Hi. Here you go.”

 

Janis can’t feel her face. Or any part of her body that isn’t currently on fire with shame.

 

She grabs her drawings and stuffs them into her sketchpad, planning on organizing them later. “Thanks,” she tells Karen, unable to make eye contact.

 

“Sure,” Karen says with a shrug. “Are you okay, though? You fell pretty hard.”

 

“I’m fine,” Janis replies before Karen is even done talking. “I’m—yeah, I’m fine. Thanks. Bye.”

 

She turns to head in the other direction, but Karen yells at her to wait and hurries to catch up. “Wait, can I talk to you?” she inquires hopefully.

 

“No,” Janis says through gritted teeth.

 

“Okay, but, it’s really important,” Karen insists. “I want you to know I wasn’t—”

 

“I want _you_ to know that I don’t care,” Janis snaps, spinning on her heel. Karen fumbles then regains her balance, blinking in surprise at Janis’s vehemence. “I don’t fucking care why you and Regina called me. Just leave me alone, okay? You can’t trick me into hanging out.”

 

“I wasn’t trying to trick you,” Karen says slowly, sounding hurt like she did yesterday. For some reason it’s worse in person. “Regina didn’t have anything to do with it. She wasn’t there when I called you, I swear. Neither was Gretchen.”

 

Janis shakes her head. “Well, whatever. I don’t trust any of you skanks, so nice try. I’m not an idiot, Karen, I know you have an agenda of some sort, with or without Regina. So—thanks for helping me just now, but that’s it. Don’t call me again, understand?”

 

It’s easy to sound like she’s talking to a child when it comes to Karen, and doesn’t really care if that’s patronizing. She waits for Karen to nod before turning and stalking off down the hall; the kids around her give her a wide berth, her sour mood rolling off in near-visible waves.

 

All throughout art class she sees Karen’s woeful face, the memory more vivid than paint.

 

* * *

 

Nothing else happens for two weeks. Karen doesn’t call again, and although Janis feels rather justified in telling her off, a small part of her wants to apologize.

 

A really small, basically nonexistent part, because Janis would rather saw off her fingers than look a Plastic in the eye and utter the words _I’m sorry._

 

If Karen had a single ounce of self-awareness, she’d realize Janis snapped for trauma-related reasons and not because she actually has anything against Karen personally. Sure, she hates her automatically for associating with Regina, but you peel back several layers and the source of her anger lies solely with Regina.

 

Janis still finds it hard to believe Karen wanted to spend time with her. It doesn’t make a lick of sense. Why now? What spurred Karen to look up the Sarkisians’ home phone number to call? And what in God’s name made her think Janis would take her up on her offer?

 

It’s just bizarre. It gnaws away at Janis, day and night, and she’s mad at herself for not being able to let it go. She jumps every time she hears the phone start to ring. And her anxiety puts her in a constant state of irritation, meaning her parents have to walk on eggshells. She’s not doing it on purpose—withdrawing and letting her feelings fester is her main way of coping. It’s not healthy but the alternative is telling someone, which is worse.

 

She remembers what Ms. Norbury said, and wishes it was that easy. Teenagers are notorious for keeping shit bottled up. What’s communication?

 

It’s a Wednesday when she sees Karen again. Upon walking into the auditorium, she instantly regrets saying yes to helping paint set pieces for the impending school play. Eyes drawn to the splash of pink onstage, Janis gapes when she recognizes the gangly blonde.

 

Karen is painting a cardboard sun yellow. She doesn’t hear Janis come in because the others are talking loud and there’s showtunes blasting over the speakers, giving Janis time to collect herself prior to forcing her legs to keep moving.

 

Janis hurries past and dumps her bag into a seat. She wanders over to Tyler Kimble, the only boy other than Damian in this school she feels remotely comfortable talking to. He assigns her to a tree already on the stage, and she grabs a brush and two small cans of paint.

 

Karen is now twenty feet away from her, and Janis deliberately moves the tree further behind the curtain to avoid her. She’s successful for ten minutes, able to paint in peace, but then she hears a startled little gasp, followed by, “Janis?”

 

Truly, who else would it be? Janis closes her eyes, cursing the universe prior to turning around to acknowledge Karen, who is gently laying down her wet sun on a sheet laid out on the wood.

 

She gets to her feet and swipes her blonde hair out of her face. “Hi,” she says sweetly. There’s yellow paint smeared on her cheek.

 

“Hi,” Janis deadpans, going back to her work, hoping Karen takes the hint.

 

Karen doesn’t, and steps forward to see the progress she’s made. “It makes sense why Tyler asked you to help. I mean, you’re the best artist in school.”

 

Deep down, that means something to Janis, but she scoffs indignantly. “I dunno about that.”

 

“No, you are,” Karen insists, and when Janis glances at her, her eyes are huge with sincerity, and what Janis thinks is admiration. “I’ve seen the stuff hung up in the art room and it’s really good. I wish I could paint like you.”

 

Janis lifts a shoulder uncomfortably. “Well, if you like to paint, just keep at it, I guess. If you’re into it, you’ll get better with time. I wasn’t that good when I started.”

 

_Which only happened because your best bitch landed me in art therapy,_ she doesn’t say. Too aggressive for the moment, even if she wants to rub it in.

 

Karen should feel bad for being friends with Regina. Karen should feel like utter shit for being a Plastic. If she cared, about Janis specifically, she would take a chance and drop out.

 

But of course she isn’t going to risk shit for the greater good. Plastics have no moral compass.

 

They’ve fallen silent, and Janis focuses on the tree. Karen is contemplating something, visibly conflicted now that they’re speaking again.

 

“Um,” she eventually says, and Janis sighs. “About the other day—”

 

“I said what I said,” Janis interrupts, not possessing the patience or will to deal with this. “I am not interested in being friends with you as long as you’re with Regina, ’kay? We can’t be pals if you’re still a Plastic, I’m sure you’re aware that myself and Plastics just don’t mix.”

 

Karen listens with a pinched expression. Before she can protest or argue, Janis asks, morbidly curious now, “And if Regina didn’t make you call me as a joke, what made you want to ask me to hang out with you? I mean, you gotta understand my hesitation.”

 

Karen chews her bottom lip. “I dunno,” she murmurs, looking down at her sandals.

 

She doesn’t elaborate, and Janis raises her eyebrows. “You don’t know?” she repeats. Karen shrugs. “Okay, well, that’s super helpful.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Karen whispers then, and backs off, hurrying down the side steps and out of sight before Janis can say anything. She watches her go, wrestling with a sudden wave of guilt and its opponent, relief. Janis shakes her head, more confused than she’s ever been.

 

Karen Smith is a tougher nut to crack than Janis originally thought.

 

And yet, now she kind of, sort of wants to figure out how.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > **trigger warnings:**   
>  d slur

Janis is borderline religiously grateful when the weekend rolls around. Damian comes over on Saturday and they spend the afternoon watching horror movies. (It’s March.) But then Janis’s heart drops into her stomach when he asks, “What’s up with you and Karen?”

 

Fucking Tyler Kimble. He must’ve seen them and said something to Damian.

 

“Nothing,” Janis mutters, turning up the volume on the TV. He looks at her skeptically for a bit, then steals the remote to pause the movie.

 

“You’ve been acting all tense lately,” he points out, hiding the remote behind him.

 

“I have not,” she argues. “Gimme that back, homegirl’s about to get slashed.”

 

He ignores her request, beginning to look genuinely concerned for her. “Jan. I mean it. You’ve been super weird recently. Like, weird for you. This is the first time we’ve hung out in weeks. I mean, something must be wrong, because you’re obsessed with me.”

 

She glares at him. “Am not. But—I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

 

He purses his lips. “Too late. What happened?”

 

“ _Nothing,_ God,” she whines, crossing her arms. “I’m—handling it. I mean, I don’t even know—I don’t know, it’s weird. Karen is being weird.”

 

He gasps, sitting up straighter. “Oh, so this _does_ involve Karen? Spill the tea.”

 

“I hate you so much.” Janis shoves a pillow at his chest. “Yeah, okay, it does. It’s bizarre. She called me a few weeks ago and asked if I wanted to hang out,” his jaw drops, “yeah, I know, it freaked me the fuck out. I assumed Regina put her up to it so I told her to fuck off and hung up on her. Then the next day I dropped my shit in the hall and she helped pick it up. She told me she hadn’t been joking when she called me, but I didn’t believe her so I told her to not call me again. And then the other day she was also helping out in the auditorium, and we…talked. But it was super weird, and she ran off.”

 

“Wild,” Damian says softly, and Janis hums in agreement.

 

“Yeah. So. That’s what’s going on.” She sighs, suddenly exhausted. “I dunno what to do.”

 

He shrugs. “Don’t do anything. She’s not your problem.”

 

“Except she is,” Janis counters helplessly. “Out of the blue, she wants to hang out with me? I mean, she’s seemed sincere when we’ve actually talked, but… I don’t know. I can’t see myself being friends with her. And I said that. I said I can’t be her friend if she’s still a Plastic.”

 

“Good,” he approves. “Let her be lonely. It’s her own fault.”

 

She knows he means Karen, but that cuts deep into Janis’s core. Like maybe her loneliness is a choice. Except she’d choose being alone over a conflicted Plastic any day.

 

Rubbing her temples, Janis scoots closer to Damian, not caring that he stole the remote. He’s quick to hug her, cheek on top of her head.

 

“I just don’t get it,” Janis mumbles, tracing the graphic on Damian’s shirt. “It’s so random, even for Karen… Especially for Karen. Like, if I’d said yes when she called, and Regina found out… Karen would’ve been crucified. Why would she wanna risk that for me?”

 

Damian throws his head back and crows, _“She’s a girl worth fighting fooor!”_ which earns him a punch to the gut that only makes him laugh harder.

 

“I’m serious,” Janis scolds. “This is super weird and I’m afraid she’s gonna talk to me again.”

 

“Aw, you’re afraid to talk to a girl?” he teases, and she flips him off. He takes her hand to kiss her knuckles. “I mean, I’m with you, it’s strange, and I wouldn’t touch a Plastic with a ten-foot pole, you know that. But maybe—and I can’t believe I’m about to say this, Lord please forgive me for my sins—maybe Karen is changing, or at least trying to, and if Regina isn’t going to be sorry for what she did to you, perhaps this is Karen’s way of showing she feels bad.”

 

“By inexplicably trying to be my friend? Yeah, I don’t think so,” Janis huffs.

 

Damian taps her nose. “I’d be careful, but that doesn’t mean you can’t let her talk to you. You just won’t know what her deal is til she tells you.”

 

Janis studies her nails. She feels sad all of a sudden, like the weight of her loneliness could be the dealbreaker here. Next time Karen talks to her, she’ll fling herself at the blonde and beg to be friends. Yeah, no. Janis might be lonely but she’d never be that desperate.

 

She literally had a panic attack the night Karen called. She probably would again if something came of this, whatever this is. Because Regina will be there, looming over them like a thunder cloud. Even if Janis wanted to be Karen’s friend, Regina would spoil it, and then both of them would be in deep shit. Janis can’t deal with that.

 

But there’s more to it than she knows yet. Karen has her reasons. Janis wants to hear them.

 

* * *

 

She gets her wish the following Monday, when Karen intercepts her at her locker.

 

“Can we talk?” she asks quietly, glancing around like they’re doing something illegal.

 

“Depends on what you wanna talk about,” Janis responds curtly. “I mean, are you gonna talk in circles or are you gonna explain why the hell you suddenly wanna be my friend?”

 

“Yes, but not here,” Karen pleads, and they make eye contact. Karen is about an inch taller so Janis has to look up, which only happens if she’s talking to Damian. She feels slightly less self-conscious about being so tall when she’s with Karen.

 

Janis gives in with a sigh, and gestures for Karen to lead the way. Biting her lip, Karen motions for Janis to follow, and leads her down the halls to an empty classroom. Janis flops down into a desk chair and waits for Karen to speak.

 

“Okay,” the blonde begins, spreading her hands emphatically. “I’ll say it again: Regina was not there when I called you. We weren’t pranking you. I mean, I wasn’t. I see now how weird that probably was, though. We aren’t friends, and I’m a Plastic, so…”

 

She trails off, leaning against the teacher’s desk.

 

Janis waits, and Karen takes a deep breath before continuing. “Um, okay, you can’t repeat this to anyone. Especially not to Regina,” she adds urgently.

 

Janis lifts a shoulder. “I avoid her at all costs. Shoot.”

 

She notices Karen’s hands are shaking, and when Karen notices her noticing she hides them behind her back. Janis is abruptly gripped with an indescribable feeling, like what Karen wants to say is monumental. The atmosphere shifts, and Janis already softens towards her.

 

“Um. So.” Karen looks down at her feet. “The reason I wanted to see you… I wanted a chance to talk to you in person about this, because I don’t know anyone else I could trust, or who’d get it. I mean, you’re kind of the only lesbian here.”

 

It’s the first time in Janis’s life anybody has called her a lesbian but in a nice way. Karen says it with no malice, no judgement, no disgust. She’s simply stating a fact, kindly.

 

There’s a pause, then Karen murmurs, “I think I might like girls.”

 

Janis knew it was coming but her chest still aches. She hiccups, leaning forward in her seat to show she’s listening. “Okay,” she says, trying to sound calm. “That’s cool, Karen, good for you. Girls are awesome.” She musters a grin.

 

Karen’s returning smile is weak and nervous. “Yeah, they are. So—yeah. I don’t know what to do. I can’t exactly talk about this with Gretch or Regina, you know how they are…”

 

“Raging lesbophobes? Yeah.” Janis scoffs. “Well, you came to the right dyke.”

 

Karen jumps, startled by the self-directed slur, and Janis smirks.

 

“I mean, I get it now, why you wanted to talk,” Janis says, rising from her chair to go stand next to Karen. “You could’ve just said so over the phone, y’know.”

 

Karen shakes her head. “I think that would’ve made you even more suspicious.”

 

She has a point. Janis chews her thumbnail for a minute, her head spinning with this info. This sort of changes everything. Not just for Karen, but Janis.

 

Typically if someone is questioning if they’re gay, or has to consult Google or a trusted nearby gay person for help, chances are they aren’t straight. Janis figured it out on her own, working through her internalized bullshit (thanks, Regina) in order to reach a place where she was fine with calling herself a lesbian. But Karen is scared—Janis can hear it in her voice, see it in her body language. She’s scared—and alone.

 

Except she isn’t alone, and now neither is Janis. They both just gained something by Karen’s admission. And Janis lets out a breath, a tight one that’s been resting in her chest for a while. The loneliness is still there, but she dares to feel a glimmer of hope on top of it.

 

“What made you start thinking about it?” she asks gently.

 

“Nothing in particular,” Karen whispers. “I guess I was watching something and I realized how I liked all the female characters more than I liked the guys. And then I was reading a magazine, and I stared at a picture of this model for, like, five minutes.”

 

Janis laughs out loud. “That’s so valid.”

 

Karen smiles. “So. Yeah. Stuff like that. Just within the past few months. But it’s hard to… you know, feel comfortable with it. I dunno what it means, or what I am. I don’t think I’m…straight. And that scares me. Especially because of…”

 

She trails off again, but Janis knows what she was going to say. It’s difficult navigating a new side to yourself when your two best friends consistently pick on the lesbian they outed.

 

“Well, whatever you are, it’s okay,” Janis tells her. “And you don’t need to label it. Society puts too much pressure on people to label their identities, and it’s bullshit. Not that labels are bad, it just isn’t helpful being told you _have_ to fall under x, y, or z category.”

 

Karen nods fervently. “Yeah. ’Cause I don’t even know.”

 

“If all you know is you aren’t straight and you definitely like girls, congrats,” Janis says with a shrug. “And if later you realize you’re one specific thing, congrats again. But don’t rush into it, okay? And don’t beat yourself up. Be patient, and go easy on yourself. This is your own thing you have to come to terms with, Karen.”

 

Karen nods her understanding. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

 

There’s a comfortable, thoughtful silence, then Karen asks, “When did you know? I mean… I know Regina did that stuff to you, but was it true at the time? Or did it come true later?”

 

“It might’ve been a little true,” Janis admits. “But I was twelve. I don’t remember having a crush on another girl. But I didn’t have crushes on boys, either. I’m sure part of me was gay before I realized it.” Karen grins now, and Janis grins back at her.

 

“I embraced it only about a year ago,” Janis continues, toeing the floor with her boot. “It wasn’t easy, especially since everyone in school fucking hated me for it. But I couldn’t deny it, or act like it wasn’t who I am. It sucks that Regina was right all along, but… I like being gay. And like I told you, I came to terms with it in my own time.”

 

Karen looks sheepish then as she says quietly, “Janis, I’m sorry about what happened.”

 

It’s also the first time anyone’s apologized to her for that. It might not come from Regina, but it still is nice to hear. Throat tight, Janis bumps her elbow to Karen’s. “Yeah. Thanks.”

 

Another silence. Then Karen snorts a cute little laugh and says, “Okay, can I be honest? Not to freak you out or anything, but… I’ve always thought you were cool. Like, your whole look, I love it. And your makeup is—hot.”

 

She fumbles the last word, and Janis chokes on a laugh. “You think I’m hot?”

 

Karen moans and hides her face in her hands. “Yes. A little.”

 

“Wooow.” Janis laughs some more, completely caught off-guard.

 

“I’m sorry, that’s weird,” Karen blurts, shifting away from her like she’s afraid.

 

“No it isn’t,” Janis reassures her quickly, touching her arm before she can put too much space between them. “You’re not weird. You’re fine. Thank you.”

 

Karen rubs her neck, shy now. She looks mortified, but is also trying not to smile. It’s absurdly cute. A Plastic has no right being that cute.

 

It’s strange how just the other day Janis was lamenting over ever being friends with a Plastic. But now it makes sense—now it all makes sense, like the final puzzle piece has fit.

 

If she was going to befriend any of them, of course it’d be Karen.

 

Bonding over not being straight, no less. Go figure.

 

“Um. So.” Karen avoids Janis’s eyes now. Janis is actually flattered she thinks her makeup is attractive. “Yeah, I should go. Good talk. Thank you, Janis.”

 

“You’re welcome, Karen,” Janis replies softly. “Um, wait—do you want my number?”

 

Karen’s face goes bright red. “I mean, like, to text,” Janis clarifies. “If you wanted to talk some more about…you. Or whatever. If you want.”

 

“Oh.” Karen sags with relief, but reaches into her pocket to retrieve her phone.

 

They exchange numbers, and Karen makes Janis pinky-swear not to mention this to anybody. Janis promises, meaning she can’t spill more tea to Damian. He’ll learn to live with it, though. As long as she can tell him everything is cleared up, he can survive without details.

 

Karen is visibly itching to hug Janis, but seems to be aware of her boundaries. She thanks her again, says she’ll text her later, then slips out of the classroom. Janis looks down at her phone screen, typing in Karen’s contact name, adding the lipstick kiss emoji beside it for kicks. A bell rings, and Janis quietly leaves, fighting a smile all the way to English.

 

* * *

 

Janis and Karen begin their secret friendship that same day. Janis tells Damian what little she can during lunch, and he seems to get what she’s implying when she says Karen asked her to not say too much. Later as Janis is getting out of the shower, Karen texts her to say hi.

 

Karen mostly communicates through emojis, so Janis quickly learns what each of them mean. Karen is funny and sweet, and Janis hides the glow of her phone under her covers as they talk into the night, finally saying goodbye close to midnight.

 

At school, Regina is none the wiser to Karen’s newfound friendship with their sworn enemy—Janis has to give Karen credit for acting normal. Occasionally she’ll glance over at the Plastics at lunch, and she’ll catch Karen’s eye for a split second, or they’ll make eye contact in the hall, getting away with it because Karen always walks behind Gretchen and Regina.

 

Spring Fling is suddenly right around the corner, the last Saturday in April. Janis feels like she blinked and a month went by; it doesn’t feel that long. Weren’t she and Karen just chatting in the classroom a week ago? Time isn’t real.

 

Karen calls her the week before the dance to ask if she has a date.

 

“Me? No,” Janis laughs, putting Karen on speaker so she can continue her drawing.

 

“Well, I don’t either,” Karen admits, sounding forlorn.

 

“Really?” Janis says, surprised. Regardless of Karen’s sexuality, Janis expected tons of guys to line up to ask her out to Spring Fling.

 

“Nope,” Karen confirms. “That’s why I’m calling. Do you… Can you go with me?”

 

Janis’s pencil stops mid-stroke. She looks at her phone, watching the seconds tick by.

 

Did Karen Smith just ask her out? To fucking Spring Fling?

 

“Janis?” Karen chirps, since fifteen seconds have passed and Janis has yet to respond.

 

“Uh,” Janis grabs the phone, taking it off speaker, “I don’t know about that, Karen.”

 

“Why not?” Karen asks, and Janis is confused for her.

 

“Well… You aren’t out, for one,” Janis reminds her gently. “If we showed up together as dates, that’d put you in a really awkward spot, especially with Regina. You’re still figuring yourself out. I’d hate for that to be ruined if something were to happen. And second of all, the entire student body would crucify you on their own time. You know how they treat me.”

 

“Yeah,” Karen mutters, audibly fighting tears, and Janis’s heart splits directly in two. “I just—I just thought maybe it’d be easier if you were my date.”

 

“It wouldn’t. You’d only become an even worse target. Not only are you into girls, but you show up with me, the space dyke? Forget about it.”

 

“But I don’t wanna forget you,” Karen argues, the saying going over her head.

 

Janis’s throat feels tight. “Yeah, me neither,” she mumbles earnestly. If you had told her at the start of the year she’d wind up befriending a Plastic, she probably would’ve slapped you. But it feels right, now that it happened, and since it’s Karen.

 

Karen, who’s nicer than Janis gave her credit for. Karen, who trusted Janis enough she came out to her. Karen, who Janis really likes now that she’s gotten to know her.

 

Karen, who Janis once dreamt about kissing. Karen, who Janis might actually want to go to a stupid school dance with. Emphasis on _might._

 

“So we should just go by ourselves, then?” Karen says, disappointed.

 

“Well, you can go,” Janis tells her. “I’m not going. I’d rather sit at home on my sofa stuffing my face with chips than stand around in a loud gym waiting for Regina to win a dumb crown.”

 

Karen giggles, and the sound makes butterflies burst inside Janis. “Me too,” she agrees, and Janis can suddenly picture her lying on her bed, socked feet in the air. Janis hasn’t ever been to Karen’s house, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Karen had one of those vintage phones with pink fluff glued to either end. The vision of nineties glamor.

 

Karen sighs then. “Well, I’ll leave you alone now. Sorry for putting you on the spot.”

 

“It’s okay,” Janis assures her, because it is. She’s touched Karen felt comfortable asking.

 

“I dunno what I was thinking,” Karen says guiltily. “There’s no way I’m ready to…be out. It’d be a disaster if we went together. Regina would flip.” A sad little sigh. “Oh well. Maybe next year. I guess I’ll go as the third wheel to Gretch and Jason.”

 

Janis makes a face. “Ew. Do you even have to go at all?”

 

“Yeah, I already picked out my dress,” Karen moans. “Well, Regina did. And she’d be _so_ mad if I wasn’t there to take pictures of her.”

 

“You’re more than just a third wheel, Karen. And Regina’s personal photographer.”

 

“I know,” Karen says, but doesn’t sound convinced. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” Which is probably the most heartbreaking thing she’s ever said. “I’ll text ya later. ’Night, Jan.”

 

Janis grins at the nickname. “Goodnight, Karen.”

 

All for the rest of the night and all of Sunday, Janis can’t help but sketch Karen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s the end :( i hope you guys liked this little story as much as i liked writing it!
>
>> **trigger warnings:**   
>  sexual assault mention

The following Saturday, Janis doesn’t hear from Karen. They text daily after school and on the weekends, but today there’s radio silence on Karen’s end. Janis assumes she’s getting ready for the dance and doesn’t reach out to her; if Karen’s phone is in Regina or Gretchen’s vicinity, they’re both toast if either see an incoming text from Janis.

 

Seven PM rolls around, and people should be arriving at the dance by now. Janis takes a bag of barbecue chips and hunkers down on her basement couch like she said she would. Damian texts pictures of him getting ready, mostly to be passive aggressive since Janis friend-dumped him in favor of not going to the dance. She eventually puts her phone on Do Not Disturb.

 

She watches adult cartoons since her parents aren’t home, finishing the bag in an hour. She’s coming back from throwing it out and washing her hands when she sees the tall figure outside the basement door, blurry through the small window.

 

At first Janis is frozen with terror, but then her visitor knocks and loudly says her name. Janis bounds down the remaining steps and rushes to open the door, shocked.

 

“Karen?” she says in disbelief, jaw dropping when she sees what Karen is wearing. A dark red cocktail dress that hugs her hips and thighs, her legs going on for days below the skirt. Her hair is pulled back in a fancy ponytail, and she looks miserable.

 

“Hello,” she says, waving unnecessarily.

 

Janis takes another second to overcome the brain blockage she’s currently experiencing due to how beautiful Karen is, but once she can speak again she ushers Karen inside, demanding to know what happened and if she’s okay.

 

“I guess so,” Karen mumbles, sitting down in Janis’s dad’s old recliner.

 

“You guess so?” Janis repeats, turning on a light as Karen tugs off her heels.

 

Karen makes a face, visibly trying not to cry, and Janis gets a horrible feeling. “I’m fine, but—some guy tried to kiss me,” she mutters, every word dripping with disgust.

 

“What?!” Janis crows, hands balling into fists.

 

“I pushed him off,” Karen reassures quickly. “But, yeah. I was dancing and he came up to me, I don’t even know who he was, and was trying to be sexy and then he tried kissing me.”

 

“God.” Janis feels sick. “Did he put his hands on you, or what?”

 

“A little,” Karen admits, guilty, like it’s her fault. “I think he was a senior. He probably gets with girls all the time. He looked offended when I shoved him.”

 

“As you should’ve,” Janis praises, heart pounding. “Jesus, Karen, I’m sorry. What did Regina or Gretchen do? Did anyone do anything?”

 

“No,” Karen says, and Janis scoffs, though she’s hardly surprised. Karen looks stricken then, and makes a sound like an aborted sob. “I sleep around so much that people probably thought he was my date or something. Or that I’d want it even if I didn’t know him.”

 

“Karen, no,” Janis says hollowly as Karen starts to cry. “No, no, no. Honey, no. Come here.”

 

She leads Karen to the couch and lets her cry for a minute. If she had been there, she’d have rocked that guy’s shit to hell and back without an ounce of shame. Nobody puts their hands on anyone without permission, let alone try to kiss them.

 

Of all the school dances to bow out of.

 

Janis gets Karen a few tissues once she starts to calm down. She presses her shoulder to the other girl’s, trying to be comforting. Truthfully, she doesn’t think she’s very good at it, but Karen appears to relax significantly because of her.

 

“I haven’t even had sex in, like, five months or whatever,” she mumbles randomly. “So I dunno what people thought. I haven’t because I don’t think I wanna sleep with guys anymore.”

 

“And that’s okay,” Janis tells her. “And liking sex or whatever doesn’t mean you’re okay with a random guy coming on to you. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

 

Karen shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe it was a sign.”

 

“For what?” Janis counters. “No, it didn’t mean anything other than guys are fucking gross.”

 

“That’s what I mean,” Karen clarifies. “Guys are disgusting. I shouldn’t date them.”

 

She looks at Janis then. Janis unthinkingly tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’ll support whatever you do,” she tells Karen.

 

They’re quiet then, and their hands wind up intertwined. Karen settles deeper into the couch, a sleepy look passing over her face. She still looks pretty, Janis thinks. Her makeup is amazing. Her winged eyeliner is killer. And her boobs look fantastic in that dress.

 

So. Maybe Janis has a teensy little thing for Karen.

 

In a bizarre turn of events, Karen Smith makes Janis Sarkisian… _happy._ She is her friend now, a real friend, not some fake bitch who will use the most precious thing about Janis against her. Janis feels safe around her. It’s unheard of.

 

She’s saying it without realizing she’s made the conscious decision to do so. “I’ve never been kissed,” she announces, rubbing her thumb over Karen’s.

 

“Really?” Karen says, probably feigning surprise so Janis won’t be embarrassed.

 

Except she isn’t ashamed of it. She can’t be, not under the circumstances. “Nope.”

 

Karen ponders that. “Kissing boys isn’t as fun as the movies make it look. I’m sure kissing girls is way better. Just because you’d think girls know how girls wanna be kissed.”

 

 _I wanna kiss you,_ Janis immediately thinks. _I wanna kiss you so bad._

 

She’s gripped with the intensity of it, of how much she wants to kiss Karen. She’s never been kissed, but she’d be okay with Karen being her first.

 

In fact, she’d be okay with Karen being her first everything. She feels like she’s fallen down a rabbit hole and can’t climb out of it, but is content to stay at the bottom. She’s positive she isn’t in love quite yet—a month is too soon. But she’s well on her way there.

 

She doesn’t even know how she’d do it. How the fuck do you kiss someone? How do you go to kiss someone? Janis feels like she knows everything but this.

 

“Can I be honest?” she whispers. Soft and scared.

 

“About what?” Karen hums innocently.

 

Janis inhales, making progress by looking at Karen’s chin, halfway back to her eyes. She can’t meet them, afraid of what she’ll see looking back at her. “Um. You know how you said you like my makeup? Or, you basically said I’m hot?”

 

Karen blushes, but nods. “Yeah. I still…think that, by the way.”

 

Janis fights a dopey smile. “Well. Uh. I think that, too, I guess. About you.”

 

What is she doing? She’s going to ruin this. She’ll scare Karen away. Regina’s voice is yelling at her from the back of her mind, snarling and howling and screeching obscenities.

 

“You do?” Karen is saying, looking up in surprise. Janis shrugs.

 

“Yeah,” she whispers. “And not to be weird, or make you feel weird, especially now… But I sort of, really wanna…kiss you. I guess. I don’t know.”

 

Expecting Karen to get upset, she’s never been more happy to be proven wrong when Karen’s whole face lights up. “Really?!” she crows. “Wow. I wanna kiss you, too.”

 

Janis laughs, startled. “Seriously? No way.”

 

“Yes way,” Karen insists, poking Janis playfully in the stomach.

 

They look at each other wordlessly for a long moment, unsure what to do next. Then Karen is suggesting, “Do you want me to go first? I mean, I’ve never kissed a girl, obviously, but I have kissed someone before, so maybe that’ll make it easier.”

 

“Only if you want to,” Janis says quickly. “We don’t… You don’t have to do anything, Karen.”

 

“No, I wanna,” Karen insists, putting her tissues on the coffee table so her hands are free. “So. Okay. You just hold really still, like a statue.”

 

Janis arches an eyebrow. “Is that what you do when your dates go to kiss you?”

 

“Yeah, because I don’t know if I like the way they kiss just yet,” Karen says. “If you don’t like it, you’re already not doing anything, and you can just tell me.”

 

“Well, no, I don’t wanna be still,” Janis argues. “Shouldn’t this be a team effort?”

 

Karen blinks. “I’ve never gone right into it like that.”

 

Janis inches closer, minimizing the gap between them. “Lots of firsts are happening right now, Karen. It’s fun to try new things. Right?”

 

Karen’s eyes are wide. “Right. Okay. So. We both do it at the same time?”

 

“You’re overthinking it,” Janis huffs. Her pulse throbs in her ears. “Either you kiss me or I kiss you and we’ll go from there. Or, we kiss each other at the same time.”

 

“Fun,” Karen whispers, and goes for the first option.

 

Her mouth touches Janis’s and Janis responds within a millisecond, tilting her head back to let Karen kiss her more effectively. It thrills through her like a bolt of electricity, and she kisses her back eagerly, like she was born for it.

 

The first kiss itself doesn’t last very long, but to Janis it feels like eons. When Karen pulls back to see how she’s doing, her lips tingle from the absence of Karen’s.

 

“How was that?” Karen chirps breathlessly, and Janis can only stare at her, a mixture of desire and gratitude swirling in her head. She’s dizzy, but Karen is the clearest thing she sees.

 

She initiates it this time, enthusiastic and needy. Karen hauls her onto her lap, and she laughs against Karen’s mouth, never having envisioned herself as the one to straddle somebody else. But it feels right, at least with Karen.

 

As far as first kisses go, this is beyond anything Janis was hoping for.

 

They’re both a little shy, nervous as they find their rhythm. Karen still has more confidence and it makes Janis feel better about not being entirely sure what she’s doing.

 

Janis ends up on her back, Karen tentatively on top of her. It’s a risky position to be with their clothes still on, but Janis isn’t thinking that far ahead. She just wants to kiss Karen, devour her lips and tongue like she’s the last thing she’ll ever taste.

 

Karen’s phone is vibrating in her clutch, in the recliner where she left it, and both girls ignore it. Nothing matters—truly, nothing else matters but this. Nothing will matter to Janis like this ever again. Not only is she kissing a girl, but she’s kissing Karen specifically. So, double win.

 

When they stop finally, cheeks blushed, lips red and bitten, they sit on the couch staring at the TV without really watching what is playing. Their hands become linked again without thinking about it, like it’s as vital as breathing.

 

“So, yeah,” Karen ultimately sighs. “I definitely like girls. But mostly you.”

 

Janis smiles, and lays her head contentedly on Karen’s shoulder.

 

* * *

 

They decide to take it slow. They can’t go public for safety’s sake, since there is the pressing concern of what Regina will do. That makes Janis angrier than it ever has. Now that Karen is stuck in an oppressive environment, Janis feels especially helpless.

 

They sneak around where they can, touching fingertips in the hall and meeting in the upstairs deserted bathroom to steal a few kisses.

 

Damian notes the lift in Janis’s overall demeanor, and drills her with yes or no question to find out who the lucky lady is. At lunch one day she shifts her eyes over to Karen, and Damian all but has a conniption right there. Honestly, she’s surprised it took him so long.

 

On the last Monday of that school year, she and Damian bring flowers for Ms. Norbury, who is brought to tears. She gives them both hugs, and Janis lets herself hold on for a minute longer. Karen inspires her to be more open to receiving.

 

After the last bell, Janis meets Karen in the hallway outside the bathroom, and push inside like they usually do without a second thought. They’re met with a shock when they discover Sonja Acquino and Grace Akinola have beat them to the punch, and they leap away from each other with horrified expressions. The door creaks shut behind Janis and Karen.

 

The other two relax slightly when they recognize Janis, but seem wary of Karen. Janis clears her throat and says, “Uh, hi. Sorry to interrupt.”

 

She covers her smile with her hand and takes Karen’s with the other. “Uh, sorry, we’ll go find another spot,” she assures them awkwardly. “Bye. Come on, babe.”

 

Karen waves innocently, then lets Janis pull her out of the bathroom. They erupt into startled giggles as soon as the door closes, and Janis feels like there’s a balloon swelling up inside. It was one thing for Karen to be into girls, but another to find out two of your female classmates are also not straight. This whole time, Janis thought she was the only one. But this gives her hope that there’s more of them, somewhere.

 

The last day of school comes as a blessing to all, and Janis views the beginning of summer as a kind of fresh start. Three months of nothing as usual, this time featuring her girlfriend.

 

That word makes her giddy. _Girlfriend._ Janis has a girlfriend. A tall, beautiful, silly, endearingly dim-witted girlfriend who sends the cutest emoji texts and calls Janis every day at bedtime to hear her voice one last time before sleep.

 

 _Girlfriend. Lesbian. Romance. Love._ Janis really likes those words now.

 

It’s not going to be easy, scheduling their summers around Regina so she won’t be suspicious of Karen’s whereabouts. But they’ll make time for each other, because it’s worth it. And maybe by the time school starts again, things will have changed. Maybe one of her friends coming out will make Regina see how damaging she’s been towards Janis.

 

Whatever happens, Janis is sure they can handle it. She didn’t have that confidence until now. It’s still scary, existing as a girl who likes girls, but she has Karen, and they’ll be okay.

 

Karen comes over one warm Sunday, wearing a blue sundress and a straw hat. Janis kisses her in greeting, right there on her porch.

 

“You look cute,” she tells her, pulling her inside. “Regina let you go?”

 

“I told her I was sick,” Karen says proudly. “But then she called me a whore and hung up. But it’s okay,” for Janis’s eyes had flashed, “it’s fine. I’m here now.”

 

“That bitch,” Janis grumbles, linking their hands.

 

“It’s whatever.” Karen sighs. “Come on, it’s summer, let’s be happy. Let’s watch a movie.”

 

Janis is already headed for the basement. “You mean, we put a movie on in the background while we make out for two hours?”

 

“Yep,” Karen confirms cheerfully, following her down the basement steps.

 

And so that’s what they wind up doing, and Janis is perfectly content.

 

Before Karen, Janis Sarkisian had never been kissed. And now kisses are all she gets, and it feels like heaven. Waking up to good morning texts, holding hands when they can. All things that used to be scary and distant to Janis. But now she has every reason to be brave, and it’s euphoric. There’s nothing wrong with either of them. They’re just two girls who fell in love.

 

Against the odds of North Shore, no less. But not even Regina can keep them apart.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and reviews are fetch ♡


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